In the glittering world of celebrity reinvention, few phrases have been sold as hard as the “power of yet.” Popularized by psychologist Carol Dweck’s growth-mindset gospel, it’s the magical little word that turns every crushing “I can’t” into a hopeful “I can’t… yet.” Billionaires swear by it. Olympians tattoo it on their souls. And for the past six years, Meghan Markle has reportedly lived and breathed it like gospel.

But according to multiple sources close to the Sussexes, the power of yet has spectacularly, painfully, and publicly failed the Duchess of Sussex.
“She says it all the time,” whispers one former Archewell staffer who worked with Meghan on everything from the Netflix deal to her abandoned lifestyle brand. “Harry too. ‘We’re not there yet.’ ‘The right project is coming… yet.’ ‘The family reconciliation is happening… yet.’ But here we are in 2026, and the ‘yet’ is starting to feel like a cruel joke.”
The numbers don’t lie—and they’re brutal.
Since stepping back from royal duties in 2020, Meghan and Prince Harry have chased Hollywood gold with the ferocity of two people who truly believe the universe owes them a comeback. A reported $100 million Netflix deal. A $20 million Spotify podcast. A bestselling children’s book. A glossy lifestyle website that never launched. An Instagram return teased, then yanked. A children’s animated series quietly shelved. Even a rumored return to acting in a major rom-com that insiders say “died in development hell.”
And through every single setback? The mantra.
When Harry & Meghan became Netflix’s most-watched documentary ever but was quickly followed by a string of canceled projects, the line from Montecito was always the same: “This is just the beginning. We’re not done… yet.”
When Spotify pulled the plug on Archetypes after just one season—calling it “a very expensive mistake” behind closed doors—Meghan reportedly told her inner circle the deal “wasn’t the right fit… yet.” The $20 million? Mostly gone. The brand boost? Non-existent.
Even her most loyal fans are starting to whisper the uncomfortable truth in private group chats: the power of yet is beginning to sound a lot like “never.”
One high-profile Hollywood producer who sat in on early pitches for Meghan’s unannounced projects told us off the record: “She walks in with this serene confidence, talking about ‘the power of yet’ like it’s her secret weapon. But the room feels the disconnect. Talent, ambition, and timing matter. Mantras don’t greenlight shows. The industry has moved on, and she’s still saying the same hopeful sentences she was saying in 2021.”
Psychologists watching from afar are equally fascinated—and skeptical.
Dr. Elena Ramirez, a growth-mindset researcher at UCLA who has studied high-profile figures using Dweck’s framework, says Meghan’s case is becoming a cautionary tale. “The power of yet only works when paired with deliberate strategy, adaptability, and sometimes brutal self-reflection,” she explains. “If you keep hitting the same wall and calling it ‘not yet,’ you’re not practicing a growth mindset—you’re practicing denial with extra steps.”
Royal watchers have front-row seats to the slow-motion saga. While Kate Middleton quietly transformed into Britain’s most photographed and beloved royal in decades—polished, present, and productive—Meghan’s narrative has become one of perpetual almost-there. The Montecito mansion, once envisioned as a creative compound rivaling Oprah’s, now feels more like a gilded waiting room.
Insiders paint a picture of a woman who still rises at dawn to journal, meditate, and repeat affirmations that include some version of “my time is coming… yet.” Harry, sources say, has become the chief cheerleader, constantly reminding staff and friends that “Meghan’s vision is ahead of its time.” But behind the scenes, even close friends are gently suggesting it might be time to swap “yet” for something more concrete.
The public feels it too. A recent YouGov poll showed Meghan’s favorability in the U.S. hovering in the low 30s—down from the post-wedding high of nearly 70%. In Britain, the numbers are even bleaker. Her once-viral Instagram account remains dark. The lifestyle brand she hinted at years ago—complete with jam, yoga wear, and aspirational living—has been reduced to occasional vague Instagram Stories and unfulfilled promises.
Yet the Duchess refuses to abandon the mantra that once seemed destined to carry her to new heights.
At a private dinner in Los Angeles last month, attended by A-list supporters, Meghan reportedly raised a glass and said, “We’re not where we want to be… yet. But the best is still coming.” Guests smiled politely. One attendee later texted a friend: “It felt less like inspiration and more like a prayer that’s been repeated so many times it’s starting to lose its magic.”
Even her biggest champions in the media are running out of ways to spin the delays. The once-endless puff pieces about her “next chapter” have grown quieter. Headlines that used to scream “Meghan’s Triumphant Return!” now read more like gentle nudges: “What’s Next for the Sussexes?”
So what happens when the power of yet stops working?
According to those closest to the couple, Meghan is doubling down. New projects are quietly in development—one described as a “deeply personal” documentary series, another a potential return to scripted television “when the time is right.” Archewell continues its philanthropic work, though critics point out the foundation’s spending has drawn scrutiny for overhead versus impact.
Harry, meanwhile, has found some individual success with his Invictus Games and memoir, but sources say he’s increasingly aware that the spotlight still belongs to “Meghan and Harry” as a package—and the package is stalled.
The irony is not lost on anyone. The woman who once captivated the world with her modern fairytale romance, her effortless style, and her boundary-breaking spirit now finds herself trapped in the most modern of struggles: the influencer-era curse of endless potential with no final product.
One former aide summed it up with brutal honesty: “She believed if she just kept saying ‘yet,’ the universe would eventually deliver. But the universe doesn’t work on mantras. It works on deliverables, timing, and sometimes a little humility. And right now, for Meghan Markle, the power of yet is starting to feel like the power of… maybe never.”
Will 2026 finally be the year the “yet” pays off? Will a surprise Netflix hit, a blockbuster acting role, or a genuine royal thaw finally validate the years of waiting? Or will the Duchess be forced to confront the uncomfortable truth that some doors don’t open no matter how beautifully you rephrase your disappointment?
For now, the Montecito mansion remains quiet. The vision boards stay updated. The affirmations continue.
And somewhere in the hills of California, Meghan Markle is still whispering the same three-letter promise that has yet to deliver on its magic:
Yet.